Friend, let me tell you
You can never trust a human

If you give them a nugget of wisdom
They will only bare their teeth to consume it
And rip it to shreds
No matter how beautiful
They'll then take slaves to gather up the pieces
And put them in tastefully colored packages
Designed by scientists
Hoping to sell themselves back to you

-at a profit.

It doesn't matter if it's poison
These jokers will horde it
If we imagine love as a baby
Then the humans had a late-term abortion
Everything is so self-serving
And insanely distorted
The only thing that matters
Is what they think they are worth

-in the markets

I'm so sick of this
You ******* numb-nut, half-wits
You're just too ******* selfish
I'm done with the nice guy *******
I'm disappearing like Elvis
Am I alive or dead?
I can be both, it's no Agatha Christie mystery
I've never been happier to introduce you

-to disappearing me.

Status: Enigma
My presence, a soft ripple
My mission, a finely crushed riddle
A powder through which
The Honest Serpent slithers
Stretching out molecules
To throttle these dangerous Fools
These silly Humans with dull senses

Please challenge me -I dare you
For I have become bored
With casting crumbs before the Profane
In the Mist the Pearls are stored
The swine, they still eat it up
The teachings they ignore
May their bellies always rumble
May their focus always be: MORE, MORE, MORE!!

See me here, and there, see me, pieces of me everywhere?
See those chains, broken pieces of wood, those broken locks?
See the dust flying and then, all the stopped clocks?
See the piece you ripped out, that girl you ripped from there?
That you ripped me like i was paper, without a care?
Like i were words that you had read and had consumed and become?
Well you read me, gave up, construed an new ending, and now i am not one.
See me standing here, strong, proud and defiant,
see my broken self on the floor, that i protect like a giant?
See that picture of me that shows all, is bare and naked, and true?
see this girl that is too young to understand, that you weren't really you?
see this girl ripped from my soul and my very inner, tenderly safe heart?
Because you had to take me, just, well just because, you wanted to take me apart?
And now i stand here, a warrior, armour, and an axe in my hand,
ready to cut down any predatory seeds you may have planned?
See me like a mother spoon feeding and holding til the morning light?
see her curl inside a foetal position, crying in candlelight.
See me trying to sew her back into place, to where she is safe from harm,
see her pulling, screaming from me, scratch marks down my arm.
See me telling her over and over, you are love, you are loved, you are....
see her wishing she could erase you all, make you die in a car,
or a un-fort-un-ate in-ci-dent, where you realise your deathly wrong,
or  Do you see me now, incomprehensibly, broken but beautifully, strong.
See this hand, holding out for a hand to hold
to gather this girl in her arms until she grows old?
So when you broke those locks and stopped a moment of my time,
you pulled a girl from inside of me, for she was all of mine.
So when you ripped that paper in half in an act of 'incidence'
I now hammer down these nails, steel upon fired steel, building rows of iron fence.
And this girl you forgot to address in your misdoing and ***** way,
now begins to stand, holds out her hand and we sit together and pray.
See me now as i build myself ten times, a thousand times, bigger, wider, than before,
I make a huge fortress in my body for my girl, and pick her up from the floor.
See me standing here, half written and half ripped and torn under the sun,
I can take all that you gave me, be renewed and reborn, we become one.
For she is back here with me now, as i stand tall, tainted and blissfully strong,
for i know to pull myself back together, i have to understand,
It was not my fault, you were in the wrong.

You will never be me, you will never beat me, you will never break us apart,
You will never find solace in your *****, weak, thirsty, starved heart.

Honey liquor. the sweetest taste on my lips,
to fall down to the inner sanctum, and rest,
beneath my chest in a silent humming desire.
I feel your breath across my teeth, as it takes in my edges,
the curved outline of my body, plays with the candlelight,
that was so sweetly lit for this moment.
In a flash, like a 1950's photography picture,
the want, turns to rage, to abandonment of what lays before you,
I lay before you.
You breathe me in.
You take me in.
You leave my skin with goosepimples, and i am not cold.
I want to roar, but i am lost with out my mouth,
as you hold it in fearful gaze that I might just breathe,
you, in.
You following my veins from my neck to my wrists,
you count the beats of my blood, with your ears,
pinned back, with your teeth white and sharp,
feared by the candlelight, they do not move, like my body.
I writhe and sink below you,
your hand is on my wrist, and my arm is locked behind me,
I am pinned,
I am put upon,
and yet, i have nowhere to go, but my mind is running from you.
I wait for you to take me,
an indeterminate amount of time passes as i look at you,
with your eyes closed,
taking your time, with your lips pursed and your chin turned,
just so.
And i feel the liquor burn within my chest,
it drips down each breast and across my navel,
as you nip the scant flesh of my inner thighs.
It is quick, it is swift,
the breath i held is exhaled through an open mouth,
a silent howl in a wood-less room,
and a den has been made.
I am not here anymore,
I am within you, as you are within me.
I am breathe, as you are the air.
There is suffocation as i come too quickly and i can't control my mouth;
It utters words in religious overtones;
'Let this be my Sanctum, OH, MY GOD'.
I am fixated by the sight of you,
my body breaks into a millions pieces and dances through the languid,
heaving sweat of the dormant room;
I watch my fingertips pass me by,
I can no longer see your face,
You have braced me for the final *******,
The Ultimate Fix.
And my legs crumple as quickly as your body does.
You are silent in your respite in having me,
there is no tangible evidence of love having taken place.
And sweet honey liquor burns at the back of my throat,
as i exhale and howl to the room, the air, the woods;
for in the space between the light there lies within some air.
To love a wolf, one must have to fight,
to love a wolf, one must have to forsake all,
and be reborn anew and to cry.
For to love you, you have to take me.
And i will drink the sweet liquor,
and retreat to the sanctum within, with a smile on my face,
a burning in my chest, and a tear in my eye.
For to love a wolf, one must be willing to die.

In left footed underwear,
Left on the floor,
My legs can't find the way out, my palms hardened from the mans work;
Dark and *****, the floor is full of ash,
From a fire we had in front of a fight,
That was lit from the fire in your naked belly,
And the golden spark of guilt in your darkened eyes.
And there is a threadbare mattress that was once clothed,
By our bodies and our sweat, and sleep,
And on the wall in the night, as you vehemently slept,
A thousand decisions were written on the peeling paint,
In calligraphic cursive writing, 'A medieval love affair',
As the heart drew breath in doubting love across the air.
Bare legged jeans, double ending tshirt and a naked bra,
An imprint left on your floor; a lack of interest,
Makeup left in a leather bag,
primal ******, a primary requirement of admittance,
A threadbare rug holds the handprints of many girls before,
Raw knees scuffed the richly spiced darkened stained wool.
Walking away with a left footed boot and a right handed eye,
Casting a backwards look from behind a blue glassed veneer,
Left with a scuffed heel and Viennese waltz dancing in my ears,
The last doorknob I ever touched, wonderland being left to the Cheshire Cat.
Drink me.
Eat me.
Swallow me.
And as I fall he demands,
He said,
'Where are you going?'
'Down the rabbit hole"

After all, we're not savages. We're English.
And the English are the best at everything.
                                                     ­       (Piggy)
The hovelled huts
Near  school house ditches
Hardly sheltered starving children.
Emaciated, pale and ghastly,
Three million lost.
Exports defined them,
Imports denied them,
The world was told their hunger
Was the wrath of God.
For seven hundred years
Untolled Rachels wept;
Twice as long
As Jews were kept
Enslaved in pagan Egypt.
This was Ireland,
Not Auschwitz.

Beneath the banners of
Labour and Freedom,
Toiled the innocents.
Eyes burning from hot peppers,
Bodies weak and wrecked
From boarding;
Skin separated by flogging
Thousands of Cypriots.

Over soup and sandwiches
A demarcation's drawn,
So Hindus now face Muslims
Seeking their new homes.
Three million displaced
During lunch,
Brain salad served up on a hunch
By a line
Drawn by one man.
This wasn't Treblinka,
But Pakistan.

Millions fenced in labour camps
In what they called  
The Dark Continent.
The torture was horrendous,
With random executions.
Think the worse, you're still not there,
Think ravenous dogs and mutilation,
**** and human degradation.
Eyes gouged out, ears cut off,
This was Kenya,
Not Warsaw.

Sir Winston wore
His crocodile shoes,
Feigning the blues,
While blocking friendly supplies;
Letting three million hungry die.
His callousness was cruelly matched
When delivering Mahatma's epithet:
“Has Gandhi not starved yet?”
This was Bengal,
Not Dachau.

Their ****** count adds up.
Their new policy was errant:
Imprison all the peasants.
It was racist to the Nth degree,
A million desperate detainees
To exile when they're freed.
But half died on their knees
In Malay,
Not Buchenwald.


The Boer War and Apartheid
Were blessed with Royal Assent.
In Amritsar Brits opened fire,
To cut down Innocents.

This isn't just in history,
It's happened all too recently.

Argentina's watery graves
Gurgle from The Belgrano,
Sunk by Royal torpedoes
For a rock of sheep.
Such was the work
Of a band of brothers,
To fly their flag
Over Falkland waters?

There's no denying
The atrocities
Of her maternal
Ferocities.
The Spinners
Wrapped their glories
Furled in Jack's war stories.
The winners
Have detoured their crimes,
Enjoin us denouncing
**** times;
But the sun hasn't set
On Empire fires:
China, India, Kenya, Aden,
Ireland, Africa,
All invaded.
All degraded.
Imperialism is not benign,
The legacy lives on
In Palestine.

Under pretence
Of flag and king,
The English are
Best at everything.

let go the words
like seeds,
to the vast and
windblown
sky

let them settle,
where they may.
some may flourish,
take root and be...

a happy little flower,
a great oak tree.

some may lay dormant,
until the right season.
some may become,
a life's new reason.

some may fall
to ravening birds
some may fall
ans flourish
yet never be heard.

and sadly some may
wither and die...
without ever understanding, why....

we as poets,
truly are,
just the sowers of seeds.

to the winds....
to the sky,
let your words go,
let them fly...
to some say, adiue
see you soon.
to some goodbye.

but let them be...
borne on the wind
...to make poetry

For the first time
in a long time
I'm so scared
to be alone.
I'm scared you'll roll out,
and leave me on my own.
And what do you do
when you're
pushing thirty,
and life's left you thirsty
for love and stability?
And how do you tell that
to a handsome hillbilly?
If it was corn,
beans or guns,
action movies or trucks,
it'd be easy to discuss.
I'd have no problem
bashing welfare,
or the system **** suckers.
I'll happily sit
for hours and *****
about world affairs,
or gossip about others,
but how do we talk,
about us
as a couple?
And where is this going?
And should I be showing
any glimmer of hoping
that I'm not just
warming
your bed
for another brunette?
How come
You don't stay hard,
If I still stay wet?
Am I overreacting?
Like a stupid girl, lashing
at her own insecurities?
Or is there a shadow
of boredom I see.
I'll say this much,
at least;
If you really do love me
I'm like a mogwai;
there are careful instructions
that'll keep me
from destruction.
You've got to reassure me
that I'm not only
your only,
but that you'll always
wanna hold me.
That despite a gold ring,
and all those permanent things
I'd never ask for,
I've got to know
that It's me
you love
and adore.
That you're happy.
Not complacent.
That you're satisfied.
Not satiated.
That I still turn you on,
that you won't do me wrong,
that you think about me,
find yourself
missing me.
That you still want to kiss me.
That I've had an impact
on your steely, stone heart,
and that your big arms
are grateful
wrapped around me
in the dark.
Because from my side,
I'm sold;
not initially,
no,
but you grew on me,
sneakily,
like damp wood
grows mold.
And to be frank with you, sir,
I'm still a bit leery
of your seeming ability
to take me
or leave me,
and your closed-lip approach
on making it known
that you'll always love me
is troubling.
And, so,
If you won't..

A stilted stay, a pregnant pause,
as shadows sharpen midnight claws.
A dimming dome oppressed by night,
smiles weakly on this parasite.

It enters as a Trojan horse,
along a crawled collision course.
Its hollow husk holds silent spies,
who have no room for alibis.

This craven creature starts to nest,
in memories you'd long repressed
and darts behind your mood's eclipse,
a smirk of sadness on its lips.

From weary womb the beast begets,
its offspring weaned upon regrets.
Until it stirs with needle teeth,
to tear the tenderness beneath.  

It stalks from shade, a grievance grown,
to steal the thoughts that were your own.
Its brittle bark a bare refrain,
before it leaps and snaps the chain.

there are some things,
that just smell so good:
corn freshly shucked, potatoes roasted in campfire coals, carrots fresh from the ground, then washed   and stovetop roasted
basted with butter
and lavender honey.

the nape of my toddlers neck,
that clean fresh hopeful little boy smell.
coffee, straight up, freshly brewed
caramel warming,

passionfruit, strawberries, citrus any type, zested. freshly planed fennel curls, mint crushed for a mojito, roast lamb and rosemary gravy.

the smell of planed wood in the palms of my man's hands as i kiss them. frangipani, coconut tanning oil,
earth newly rained upon. popcorn popping, chocolate melting,
jasmine, orange blossoms,
a grove of pine trees.
warm gingerbread and mulled wine.

salt tang on the morning breeze.
the smell that lingers after the lovin.
garlic and ginger in a hot wok.
salt tang on the evening breeze.
prawns all sea salty and
a crisp cold beer.

sandlewood and citrus aftershave lotion on your smoothed cheek.

nectarines, apricots,
a yellow juicy peach,
freshly bitten.

apple scented shampoo daphne & lilac my nana's smell,
bay *** newspaper print and palmolive soap,
my pop's study.

rose petals crushed.
earl grey tea,
toast just before burning damper and cocky's joy
crisp fresh linen warm from the sun.

so many scents, so many smells...
these are my favourites please feel free to add your's, as long as it's clean
and above board.